


Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - Giving Comfort (Peter)

by Colepaldi-in-the-Tardis (Samstown4077)



Series: Colepaldi Collection [25]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who RPF
Genre: 12!jumper, F/M, Friendship, Implied Feelings, Part II, Romance, sick fick, the holey jumper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2690660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samstown4077/pseuds/Colepaldi-in-the-Tardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote a Sick Fic with Jenna being the one, now Peter is up for a cold and Jenna is there for giving comfort. Can go alone, but is more a sequel to "Giving Comfort (Jenna)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - Giving Comfort (Peter)

**Author's Note:**

> Was also a prompt suggestion here on AO3.  
> English is not my native, sorry for any mistakes, and thanks for reading it anyway.  
> Please do not read if you don't like RPF.  
> Part I  
> [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2676347)  
> Remember this is a fictional story.

 

“I think that’s it for the da… a-choo!“

 

“Gesundheit!” Jenna eyes her co-star, who hasn’t sneezed not for the first time today. “You're okay?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yea-chhooo!” Peter sniffles into a handkerchief. “Damn it!”

 

It is two days after he had pressed a red button by a lonely spot, when they were filming for “ _Flatline_ ”, what had turned out to be a shower. Dripping wet and soaked to the bone he had returned to the set and he had seemed fine at first, but obviously he had caught a cold over the incident.

 

“You shouldn’t have pressed that button,” Jenna smirks and earns one of Peters attack eyebrows.

 

“Haha,” he rubs his nose to prevent him from another sneeze. “The make up department is still furious with me.”

 

“I wonder why.”

 

“Ah, come on, I was curious! I mean who comes up with the idea to install a shower somewhere in the middle of nowhere?” he squeezes his eyes. Jenna can see he is unwell.

 

Stepping closer she places the back of her hand on his cheek and his forehead, “You are warm.”

 

“Of course I am, I am not a vampire or so,” he leans back, he not wants to admit he has caught a cold.

 

“You are sick! You should be in bed!” she warns him.

 

“I am perfectly fine, Jenna,” he says and Jenna just rolls her eyes on him.

 

“What is it with you and your gender? You’re having a cold, and don’t tell me otherwise. You got lucky that tomorrow we only have a read through,” her arms are akimbo, scrutinizing him. “Come on!”

 

Peter watches her, grabbing his bag and his coat, which she holds out to him, “Where are we going?”

 

“To your apartment,” she denies him his bag, just grabs for his wrist and drags him with her.

 

“What for?”

 

“You Mister, will go to bed, and rest, so shut up now, and come on!”

 

He follows her without a word. Luckily they both have apartments not far away from the studio and so it is only a ten minutes cab ride to his little apartment in Cardiff.

 

Peter opens the door with his keys, turning around to her, smirking, “I haven’t redd up.”

 

“Did you play with your LEGO again, all night?” she shoots back. Peter grimaces to her and lets her in.

 

Some books are laying around, some papers, drawings and a glass half full with water. She places his bag by the coffee table and turns around to him. He stands a bit awkward by the door frame, in his socks, not knowing how to handle her presence in his rooms.

 

“What now?” he asks, and he feels it sounds like a phrase you ask after a first date that maybe not went perfectly.

 

She feels his tenseness, “You go change, take a hot shower or a bath, I’ll make some tea.”

 

“Shower?” he asks kneading his fingers.

 

“Yeah? That is the thing in the bathroom, when you turn it on, there usually comes water out of it.”

 

“Very funny,” he huffs. “I just thought, because…”

 

She looks at him, and it is to her as if he is twelve again, “Gosh, lock the door.”

 

“Good plan,” he nods and toddles off to the bathroom.

 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, I assume,” she mutters and walks to the kitchen, unaware that Peter has heard her. His ears turn red, and he quickly gathers some jogging pants and a shirt from his bedroom and goes for the shower.

 

When he is finished he feels slightly better, but exhausted. “I have showered,” he reports to her in the kitchen.

 

She smiles at him, he really looks bad. “Tea is almost finished, lie down, I’ll come to you.”

 

He shrugs, he is too tired to play strong anymore. Deep inside he really appreciates that Jenna has come with him to take care of him. He had done the same a few weeks ago.

 

After turning on a not too bright lamp in the corner, he shuffles into his bedspreads, leaning his back again the rest of his bed. Jenna comes with a little tray. A pot with tea and two mugs, she even has found some painkillers and a banana.

 

She places the tray carefully at one side of the bed and sits aside from it. “Here,” she holds out the mug and he takes it with a whispered “ _thanks_ ”, “and here. Potassium,” she winks, and peels the banana down, handing him over a piece of it.

 

“You know, I could handle this myself,” chewing the fruit, earning a expression that says, _‘no you couldn’t.’_ “I just.. I am sure you have better things to do.”

 

She does as if she thinks very hard, “No I don’t, and you did the same for me. When your friend is sick, you are there for comfort. That is the rule.” She bits from the banana, remembering, she had nothing yet for dinner.

 

“So you are here because of a rule?” he asks, sipping from his hot tea, not looking at her.

 

She eyes him, trying to figure out if there is a deeper meaning, “Would you like to be alone? Sick and alone? Can’t be an achievement,” she mutters and watches the tea whirl around the spoon in the mug.

 

He looks up with a sniffle, it was not his intent to hurt her, “No, it’s not.”

 

Glancing up she catches his shy smirk and she knows, he always can get her with it. She smirks back, then shivers slightly.

In the haste to care about him, she has forgotten to bring a jumper with her - she only wears a blouse. Peter notices. “Cold?”

 

“A bit, I forgot my sweater,” she blushes slightly. “Can you help me out?”

 

He can’t stop himself,  “With a jumper, I presume?”  

 

“No, I want to come cuddling... of course a jumper!”

 

He raises his hands in defence, “Check the living room, I think there lays my jumper from the set.”

 

Jenna finds the mentioned piece of cloth hanging over the couch. When she grabs it, she sees that it is the jumper from the show. She smiles at it, she always loves it when he wears it, it suits him way better, than the shirts.

 

“This one?” she is not sure if she is allowed to wear it.

 

“Yeah,” he has skidded down under the blanket.

 

“The holy, holey jumper!” she snickers and her fingers explore the soft wool it is made of.

 

He watches her, “Is that how people call it?”

 

“So far I know, yes. It is pretty cool, though.”

 

“Well, than, bless yourself with it!”

 

Giving it a laugh, she slips it over. The thing is of course way too big for her, and she has to turn up the sleeves a few times. The hem of it hangs in the middle of her tights, but she likes the feeling of it. Warm and comfy and she even loves more, that there is still Peter’s scent on it.

 

“I am the Doctor now!” she spreads out her arms, making a little move with an imaginary screwdriver.

 

“Suits you, if I don’t get better, you can take over the role. It would be in good hands,” he smiles at her while she examines the different holes in the fabric. Like a little kid she pokes her fingers through it so that the tip of it comes out of another hole.

“Oy, watch it, lass! That is Paul Smith!” he says with a hard accent in his voice, that betrays his joking.

 

“Yeah, yeah, have you taken your painkillers?”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

“We could do the Whiskey trick.”

 

He rolls his eyes, remembering the last time he had to drink warm whiskey - horrible. “We could, but I don’t have any.”

 

“What happened to the one you brought to my apartment?”

 

“Well, I left it there, in the cupboard.”

 

“Really? Well, then… try to sleep,” she still fiddles with the jumper.

 

“I am not tired, how about some telly? I have some Classic Who on DVD,” he nods in excitement and hopes she will say yes.

 

Jenna looks around, there is a little TV by the side, but there is no stool to sit on. “You can sit aside from me,” Peter sees her hesitation, “we have done that before.”

 

She nods slowly, “Fine,” and hops aside from him, taking on blanket and wraps it around her lower body. She stuffs the edges under her legs and Peter eyes her quizzically.

 

“What? I just like it that way.”

 

“You look like a hot dog that way.”

 

“You want to watch telly or do you want start a discussion?” she snaps.

 

“Gee, don’t kill a sick man,” he grabs for the remote. “Here we go.”

 

They both get lost in a William Hartnell episode. From time to time Peter enlightens her with some little anecdote he digs out of his endless knowledge about Doctor Who. She loves how he is literally a 8 year old fanboy in a body of a 56 year old man.

 

He sniffles from time to time, but over his stories and the nice talk with Jenna he forgets that he actually feels miserable. He likes that she laughs about his stories  and after a while he finds himself thinking, that he wished they could do this every day.

 

After two episodes he turns of the telly and they both fall into a silence. It’s not that late and Jenna didn’t drink anything, so there is no real reason for staying and he is not that sick, just a little cold no life threatening fever. He can work that out alone. They both know.

 

And yet.

 

Jenna sips the last bit of cold tea out of her mug, when she needs something to know; “Why did you sleep on the couch?”

 

He needs a few seconds to track his mind back to the incident a few weeks ago. Gladly his nose runs and he can play out time with blowing it. Jenna waits patiently without looking at him, she just counts the dots of one of his shirts on a coat hanger by the door and waits for him.

 

“You know why,” he finally says, in a soft voice, his head tilting only a bit, his eyes looking down to her hands in her lap, dwelling there, till he glances up to her.

 

She answers his look with a rueful smile, of course she knows.

 

A few more minutes go by, then she finally finds the strength to rummage herself out of the blanket, “I am sorry.”

 

She gathers her stuff, and peels herself out of the jumper, not without giving it a fond look before pressing it to her nose - it doesn’t matter if he can see her do it or not. “Would keep it…,” she places the jumper by the end of the bed, “but, can’t let the Doctor go naked.”

 

He smirkes. “Jenna!”

 

She turns around by the door frame, looking at him, with his running nose and his tousled grey hair, “Mh?”

 

“Never be sorry, okay? Not for what you thinking, nor for what you are feeling. Never,” he doesn’t know how to phrase something he is not allowed to say. “Just … don’t.”

 

“Are you sorry?”

 

“No,” he answers without hesitation. “But-”

 

She raises a hand to keep him quiet. She fully understands. “Go to sleep, we see each other tomorrow. Good night, … my dear Doctor.”

 

When he hears the door go shut, he leans forward to grab for the jumper she had left there. He brings it to his nose, and he can smell the faint scent of her.

 

The thing was up for a wash, but he thinks, it can go one more day without it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it or not - if so ---> Kudos? ---> Comment?  
> If you like Colepaldi, I publish on regular basis and take prompts.


End file.
